


my lips tickle, it's hard to hold back

by crossroadswrite



Series: my feelings, this love for you [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Omega/Omega, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 12:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20600777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: “Can you breathe like that?” Yuuri asks a couple of minutes later.Victor makes a vague assenting noise. Breathing is for mortals, and Victor had ascended the second he was allowed full access to Yuuri’s thighs.Yuuri pets his hair.“Vitya, you’re going to suffocate.”“Good,” Victor mumbles.[Note:Can be read as a standalone.]





	my lips tickle, it's hard to hold back

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, the biggest thank you to my wonderful and lovely beta, LadyDrace, who continues to be a source of light and all things good in my life!
> 
> Secondly! This was written for Chubby Yuuri Appreciation Week, day 4. The prompt is indulgence!!
> 
> Thirdly, I wrote this bc I had a very clear image in my head I wanted to get out, and as a little challenge for myself because I have such a weird relationship with writing nsfw content, just to see if i Could Do It. And what I learned from this is that I have one single spoon for writing explicit content and I can only use it once every three years, and if I don't do all my editing when I have that spoon I will die of second-hand embarrassment. So rip to me, I guess, but enjoy!
> 
> Tilte taken from 'Ah-Choo' by Lovelyz.

Seven months after they start _officially_ dating, Victor and Yuuri move in together.

This might be considered a rash decision by some, but, in all honesty, Victor was ready to move in the minute Yuuri showed up to their date with a price tag still on his shirt, because he didn’t want his dog fur covered clothes to trigger Victor’s allergies.

So, really, waiting this long to move in together only shows restraint on Victor’s part.

And that was apparently all the restraint Victor could manage, because now that they’re living together, Victor’s restraint reserves seem to have completely depleted. But who can fault him when he’s sharing a space with Yuuri and is blessed with the sight of him, beautiful and just within arm’s reach every single day?

Victor is the sort of person who craves touch naturally, but with Yuuri it’s like someone turned the dial up on his need for it.

Yuuri had called him out on it once.

“You’re so clingy, Vitya,” he had said, and Victor’s breath had frozen in his chest, because he knew this song, he knew what followed.

_I need some space_. _You’re suffocating me._

But then he had looked up at Yuuri and there was nothing but amusement and fondness in him. He’d kissed Victor on the forehead, and Victor exhaled, feeling more settled in himself than ever.

So now he clings all he wants. Yuuri has a body made for clinging to, anyway.

Victor might or might not be a little obsessed with Yuuri’s body.

Where Victor’s body is all hard planes and sharp angles, unyielding, Yuuri’s is soft all over.

He’s soft around the thighs, his stomach, his chest, his cheeks, his arms. Every day, Victor finds a new spot on Yuuri’s body to adore and worship.

There’s a spot in the bend of Yuuri’s elbow that’s ticklish. Victor likes putting his lips there and blowing raspberries to startle a giggle out of him. There’s a spot right where his neck meets his shoulder, and if Victor puts his lips there it’ll make Yuuri shiver.

He has a running mental list of all his favorite places on Yuuri’s body and the reactions putting his mouth on them elicits from Yuuri. 

It’s a long list, but Victor will admit that the very top spot on his list is reserved for Yuuri’s thighs. He loves wrapping his fingers around them and watching them sink into the flesh, loves the weight of them on his shoulders, loves the sweet scent gland high up on Yuuri’s inner thigh, how it makes Yuuri twitch and clench his thighs around him if he touches there.

Victor will shamelessly take any opportunity to touch Yuuri’s thighs – to touch all of Yuuri, really.

He even convinced Yuuri to buy a couch with armrests wide enough to put his laptop on them, just so Victor could have the privilege of laying his head on his lap while Yuuri works.

That’s where Victor is right now, stretched out on the couch, head pillowed on Yuuri’s thighs as Yuuri works away at his laptop.

Truthfully, it’s too hot for Victor to be laying on Yuuri. The summer heat is unforgiving, and if they didn’t have their AC turned all the way up, Victor’s pretty sure Yuuri would have pushed him out of his lap a long time ago.

Air conditioning units are a blessing, truly. Victor doesn’t think he could survive the heat _or_ be denied putting his face on Yuuri’s bare thighs when he’s wearing tiny shorts.

Yuuri runs a hand through Victor’s hair, playing with the loose strands as he squints at his laptop, chewing on his bottom lip. Victor nuzzles into the touch like a spoiled cat, until Yuuri takes his hand away to type something on the keyboard.

Victor turns his face back onto Yuuri’s thighs, pressing his cheek against them. Yuuri smells so sweet here without any clothes covering his scent glands. Victor wants to bury his face in-between his thighs and breathe him in.

And then he realizes there’s no one stopping him from doing just that, so he starts to roll off the couch to kneel in front of Yuuri.

Yuuri’s hand slaps down on his arm, gripping tightly and halting Victor’s movements.

He turns up to look at him, takes in Yuuri’s startled eyes and laughs a little.

“Don’t do that so suddenly,” Yuuri huffs, letting go of him. “I thought you were falling.” He picks up a pillow and drops it at his feet, because he knows Victor too well.

“My hero,” Victor coos, and kneels down in front of him, wrapping his arms around the top of Yuuri’s calves, and faceplanting on his thighs.

Yuuri because he is an angel crafted by the gods to reward Victor for his many trials on earth, allows him to stay like that for a while.

“Can you breathe like that?” Yuuri asks a couple of minutes later.

Victor makes a vague assenting noise. Breathing is for mortals, and Victor had ascended the second he was allowed full access to Yuuri’s thighs.

Yuuri pets his hair.

“Vitya, you’re going to suffocate.”

“Good,” Victor mumbles.

Yuuri huffs a little, sounding amused, and then forces his thighs apart, making Victor’s face hit the seat of the couch. Victor, who had been loosely holding Yuuri’s legs together is freshly reminded of just how _strong_ Yuuri is when he easily breaks the hold Victor had on him, and feels himself flush a little.

He lifts his face from the couch and sends Yuuri a betrayed look.

Yuuri laughs at him and reaches down to tuck a strand of Victor’s hair behind his ear.

“Behave while I finish this, okay?” he says, that little amused tilt to his mouth ever-present.

“Mean,” Victor pouts, but Yuuri is already turning back to his laptop.

Victor knows he’s doing important work that requires his full attention, and that he should probably let Yuuri focus. But it’s hot and he’s bored and their apartment is so ingrained with their scent that Victor can’t really be anywhere in it and _not_ think about Yuuri.

Pining after his boyfriend in their shared apartment is ridiculous, even for him, and why pine away in their room while Yuuri works, when he can be right here, kneeling before Yuuri, cheek softly pressed against his inner knee?

Being between Yuuri’s thighs _is_ one of Victor’s favorite activities after all, and Yuuri’s got the marks to prove it. Just from his spot, Victor can see two different hickies, one almost completely faded, another, still a lovely purple, so close to Yuuri’s groin that it disappears under his shorts.

There’s a bite mark around his scent gland, and if Victor puts his teeth there they’ll align perfectly with the indentations.

Victor loves putting his mouth on Yuuri, everywhere on him. Yuuri marks so easily, so beautifully that it’s hard for Victor to resist the temptation of placing his teeth on Yuuri and biting down.

He turns his head a little, and presses his lips to the inside of Yuuri’s knee. Just a little chaste peck. And then holds his breath and waits, gazing up at Yuuri for a reaction.

Yuuri doesn’t seem to have noticed, or if he did, he’s studiously not reacting.

Victor places another kiss on top of his knee, a little firmer, and glances up again, waiting for a reaction. When none comes, he takes it as blank permission to litter Yuuri’s thighs with more fluttering kisses, trailing his way up to his scent glands.

When he puts his mouth there, Yuuri’s thighs twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, and that won’t do at all, so the next time Victor kisses Yuuri there is open-mouthed and wet. 

The arousal that had been barely curling around Yuuri’s scent, sharpens as soon as Victor’s tongue touches his scent gland.

Victor turns his head and presses his smug smile against the other thigh, before he starts trailing kisses back down to Yuuri’s knee. 

He spends the next five minutes or so on this, peppering kisses all over Yuuri’s thighs, close lipped and open mouthed both, getting Yuuri used to the sensations. And then he fits his mouth to a span of flesh and bites down, making Yuuri kick out his leg with a startled little noise.

_That_ seems to catch his attention, even if by the time he looks down at Victor he’s pressing gentle kisses against the spot, making sure he gives Yuuri the most angelic look he can muster.

Yuuri narrows his eyes at him, but doesn’t say anything, not even when Victor starts sucking a hickey into that same spot. Victor can see Yuuri’s scent gland become redder as he sucks on Yuuri’s thigh, giving away his arousal as much as his sharpening scent and the wet spot in his sleeping shorts do.

Victor presses his lips a little higher on his leg and leaves another open mouthed kiss, trails a series of them upwards until he’s back on Yuuri’s scent gland. When he puts his mouth there, he presses the flat of his tongue to it.

Yuuri tastes like sweat and skin, and a little like the mango flavored ice cream he had spilled on his lap earlier. He tastes like his scent too, something indescribably Yuuri that makes Victor feel more at home than any four walls ever have.

Yuuri’s legs twitch in an aborted movement when Victor licks him sweetly over his scent gland, and then almost fully clamp together around him when he sucks over it.

He wraps his hand around Yuuri’s thigh, letting his fingers sink into the soft flesh, and finds it absolutely delicious that he probably couldn’t make his fingers touch if he wrapped both hands around one of Yuuri’s thighs.

Victor can feel Yuuri trembling under his hands, little aborted jerks that he has no real control over. If Victor wasn’t so busy working Yuuri’s scent gland with teeth and tongue, he could turn to see how wet he is. But then again, he doesn’t really need to. He can smell it in the air, can almost taste it on his tongue through scent alone, and it makes him crave, it makes him _greedy_.

He releases Yuuri’s scent gland, the flesh red and inflamed, giving it one last lick before he turns his head towards where he knows Yuuri must be dripping, mouth already open and poised to taste, when a hand wraps around his hair and jerks his head back, forcing him to look up.

It’s not painful. Yuuri knows how and where to grab so it isn’t, but it gets Victor’s attention, makes him blink dazedly up at Yuuri.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yuuri asks, eyes narrowed in annoyance in a way that Victor knows is all for show, familiar as he is with the way Yuuri’s face is flushed and his scent is sweet and welcoming.

Victor takes too long to answer, and Yuuri huffs and asks, “What did I tell you?” He gives Victor’s hair a little tug, and Victor catches on, letting Yuuri’s hand guide him off his knees, and up to straddle him on the couch.

Yuuri doesn’t close his legs to try to accommodate him, which means Victor’s thighs are also spread apart, bracketing Yuuri’s.

“Vitya?” Yuuri prompts sweetly, loosening his grip on him.

Victor puts his hands on Yuuri’s sides for balance, and can’t really help to grope a little. Yuuri’s so malleable all over. It’s a dream.

“To behave?” Victor says.

Yuuri puts a hand on his thigh. A reward for answering.

“And did you?” 

Victor blinks several times at him, trying to clear some of the arousal he was hit with as soon as Yuuri jerked him around like a ragdoll.

“Yes,” he says, and goes for the same clueless innocent look that he’s been using to get his way since he learned how effective it was.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Really, now?”

“Is lavishing all my love and attention on my beautiful boyfriend not behaving?” he asks, and tilts his head in a way he knows is terrible charming.

“You’re right,” Yuuri says.

Victor blinks. “I am?”

Yuuri’s mouth curls in amusement, and his eyes are lit up in a way that always spells trouble for Victor, and he thinks, _this is a trap_. But then Yuuri’s trailing his hand up Victor’s thigh, the other one slipping up his torso, warm and present and making Victor shiver in anticipation.

“You are,” Yuuri says, the hand on Victor’s side reaching his chest, thumb slowly circling Victor’s nipple, and somewhere along the way, Victor must’ve developed a pavlovian response to Yuuri’s hands on his chest, because he can’t help but push it out, allowing Yuuri better access. “Don’t you think you deserve a reward?”

“I- yes. Yes, I do,” he says a little dazedly. “Does that mean, you’re going to let me eat you o- ah!” Victor cuts himself off when Yuuri pinches his nipple.

Victor’s chest is very sensitive, and Yuuri uses and abuses his knowledge of that fact. Victor is pretty sure Yuuri is as obsessed with his chest as much as Victor is obsessed with Yuuri’s thighs. Once, when they were both drunk, Victor had asked him why, and Yuuri had just held both his hands up, palms facing Victor and fingers slightly curled, before he had rotated them in a cupping gesture, and had eloquently said, “Tiddies.”

His pout makes Yuuri grin, amused and unrepentant.

“No, this is a reward for you, Vitya.”

“You letting me put my mouth on your pu- _ah_, Yuuri!” he yelps when Yuuri leans forward and bites at one nipple before soothing it with his tongue. Victor finds himself curling a hand around the back of Yuuri’s head, and he thinks he means to push him away, but instead he ends up pulling him closer to his chest.

He wants to grind down on something, but the way Yuuri’s keeping Victor’s legs spread with his own, hands now firmly on his hips, stops any of Victor’s attempts to get close to anything he can grind on, and it’s driving him mildly insane.

He rolls his hips down anyway, looking for friction that isn’t there, and hoping Yuuri will catch on. And, to his surprise, Yuuri does, which would probably set some sort of bell off in Victor’s head, if he weren’t so distracted by Yuuri slipping his hand into the excuse for underwear Victor is wearing and slipping a finger between his lips, where he’s dripping.

Victor jerks at the touch, before pushing down against it with little helpless half-aborted grinds of his hips.

Yuuri takes his mouth off his chest and looks up at him, eyes fixed on Victor’s face with an intensity that only makes the splotchy redness that has spread across Victor’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose worsen.

Victor resists the urge to shove his face into Yuuri’s neck and just grind against his hand until he comes, because he knows Yuuri likes watching him. Yuuri likes watching and being watched, and Victor likes watching Yuuri watch him, likes the way his pupils blow wide, the single-minded focus on Victor and Victor alone, as if at that exact moment he’s the entirety of Yuuri’s world.

Yuuri curls his finger into him, so _so_ painfully slowly_,_ hand gripping tight on Victor’s hip to hold him down so he can’t grind anymore.

“_Yuuri_,” Victor whines, and tries to move his hips down to make him go faster. Yuuri grips him tighter, and Victor wonders if he’ll have a bruise there later. He hopes so. He likes the idea of it, of having Yuuri’s handprint branded onto his skin.

Yuuri stops pushing in, tilts his head, affecting cluelessness, and asks, “Do you want something, Vitya?”

“_Yuuri_,” he huffs out, making a little upset noise in the back of his throat, and opening his mouth ready to protest, which soundly turns into a moan, when Yuuri pulls out and runs two fingers between his lips gathering slick before encircling his cocklet with them. Victor was already hard and dripping, but now he’s covered in his own slick, and it makes the slide of Yuuri’s fingers when he insistently rubs it up and down that much smoother.

“Hmm, didn’t think so,” Yuuri says, and there’s that tilt of amusement back in his voice, that Victor _would_ do something about, if he wasn’t too busy clutching onto Yuuri’s shoulders, back bent into the sensation.

Victor’s practically panting now, but, then again, when _isn’t_ he panting for Yuuri.

Victor’s incredibly sensitive, is the problem. He’s easy for Yuuri, and Yuuri is an incredibly fast and dedicated learner. He knows exactly how and where to touch. He knows exactly how to curl his fingers around Victor’s cocklet, how tight to stroke. He knows exactly how to curl a single finger into him to reach his sweet spot, alternating between long and short strokes so his palm slides against Victor’s cocklet deliciously.

Yuuri can break Victor down into a mess in five minutes flat, and Victor’s composure crumbles. He bows down, pressing his face into Yuuri’s neck, breathing heavily against the scent gland on his neck, trying not to make too much noise as he gyrates his hips down onto Yuuri’s hand, desperately chasing that high.

Yuuri turns his lips to Victor’s neck, kisses the scent gland there sweetly, and Victor knows if he bit down, Victor would come.

“_Yuuri_,” he breathes out, hips faltering as Yuuri increases the pace, the flat of his palm pressing down on his cocklet, adding a little bit more friction. Victor can feel his orgasm pooling low in his spine, making his thighs spasm a little as it builds, and if Yuuri would only bite down on his neck, if he’d only stroke a little harder, he’s so, _so_ close, he can taste it. He curls his hands around Yuuri’s shoulders, keens out, “_Yuuri_,” and then-

And then Yuuri takes his hands off of him, and Victor is left shaking, confused and bereft, thighs shaking, and hips grinding down into nothing.

He huffs against Yuuri’s neck, trying to catch his breath, some of the single-minded daze that had come over him in his chase for completion clearing.

“How did you like your reward?” Yuuri whispers in his ear, that same amusement lilting his voice.

Victor feels so betrayed that he bites down on Yuuri’s neck hard enough to leave a mark, making him yelp. When Victor pulls back Yuuri is laughing at him.

Victor opens his mouth, intent on a betrayed tirade, but then Yuuri wipes his slick covered hand on Victor’s cheek, casual as you please, and Victor’s mouth falls all the way open, shocked into silence.

“You really should have seen that coming,” Yuuri is saying, wiping his palm down Victor’s chest, as if he’s not in this very moment making Victor develop a new kink. He places a kiss, sweet and chaste, on the corner of Victor’s slack lips, then picks him up and dumps him on the couch beside him, so he can turn back to his laptop. “Let me finish this, then I’ll finish you. It’ll be faster if you don’t distract me, you know.”

Victor snaps out of his kink epiphany and presses himself against Yuuri’s side.

“You’re evil,” he tells him.

“I have a deadline,” Yuuri corrects.

Victor bites him where his neck meets his shoulder, and does not miss the quiet noise Yuuri makes or the way the air is saturated with both of them now. He could probably get Yuuri to snap his laptop shut and pay attention only to him, if he really wanted to.

Yuuri might be a fast learner, but so is Victor. He has it down to a science all the places that will make Yuuri abandon everything he’s doing to focus only on him. And he knows he could get him to push organizing the financial spreadsheet for his shop away for a couple of hours, but-

But if he is good, like Yuuri asked him to be, he knows Yuuri will make his patience worth it.

So he pushes at Yuuri a little so he can slip behind him on the couch. This is another one of his favorite positions – having Yuuri’s back against his chest, having Yuuri between his thighs, where he can suck marks on the back of his neck, and has free access to almost everything.

Yuuri adjusts on the couch, grabs his laptop off the arm and sets it on his lap so he can work more comfortably.

Victor wraps his hands around Yuuri’s tummy and lets his fingers sink into it, groping and pinching because Yuuri _was_ mean, and also because if he doesn’t entertain himself somehow, he’ll lose his mind. Another reason why Yuuri’s body is a dream. It not only is beautiful in every single way and makes Victor salivate, but Yuuri lets Victor use him as his personal stim toy.

“Hurry up, then,” Victor says, and punctuates it by biting Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri pinches his thigh. “Be good and wait.”

Victor is good and waits. He entertains himself by sucking marks on Yuuri’s neck and shoulders, spends ten minutes trying to suck a hickey shaped like a heart on Yuuri’s shoulder blade, and half-succeeds at it.

Yuuri snaps the lid of his laptop closed before Victor can finish and throws it on the coffee table, before sliding off the couch, kneeling where the pillow is still laying on the floor, and pulling Victor closer to the edge of the couch by the thighs.

“_Wow_,” Victor breathes out as Yuuri hooks his knees over his shoulders. “You look thirsty darling,” he tells Yuuri jokingly.

Yuuri answers by pulling Victor’s underwear aside and licking into him, making Victor’s head thunk against the back of the couch with a groan.

He buries his hands in Yuuri’s hair, pulling him closer, and guiding him to where he wants him. Yuuri seems more than willing to be guided, eager, almost, to get his mouth around Victor’s cocklet and suckle softly on it. He curls his tongue as he pushes one finger into Victor, fucking him slowly with it, before he adds another and starts crooking them.

It makes Victor’s back bow off the couch, makes his fingers tighten and pull at Yuuri’s hair with how good it feels. His breaths start coming a little faster, and if Yuuri takes his hands off of him now, Victor will _cry_.

Thankfully, Yuuri isn’t mean enough for that, even if he is mean enough to start abusing Victor’s sweet spot mercilessly. Victor’s thighs clench around his head, and it takes conscious effort to unclench them, even if Yuuri doesn’t seem to mind at all if the way he moans around Victor is any indication.

“_Yuuri_,” Victor moans out, his entire vocabulary whittled down to a single word, and once he opens his mouth he can’t stop. “Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.”

He feels overheated, liquid pleasure washing over him in increasingly strong tidal waves, and then Yuuri curls his tongue around him, crooks his fingers _just so,_ and Victor’s climax slams into him. It makes his thighs clamp around Yuuri’s head, aftershocks wracking his body, and he presses Yuuri’s face closer to him as he rides it out, before everything becomes too much and he pushes him away.

Victor’s left panting, body still twitching at random intervals as it works through the aftermath of his orgasm.

Yuuri is looking up at him adoringly. He licks his lips, face splotchy red and shiny with slick and saliva around the mouth. Victor gentles his grip on his hair, pets through it softly as Yuuri nuzzles into his hand.

He catches movement at the bottom of his vision, and sees Yuuri fucking himself on his fingers, the same ones that had just been in Victor, his other hand working his cocklet feverishly. Victor’s breath stutters out of his chest at the sight, disbelieving that he can be this lucky.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes out, and Victor leans down and presses a kiss against his slack, panting lips, trails his mouth down his cheek, to his neck, and then wraps him teeth around his scent gland and bites down.

He feels Yuuri seize up, can almost taste his orgasm sweet on his tongue where he has it pressed against his neck.

He pulls back to watch Yuuri fall apart, and thinks he falls in love all over again.

Yuuri leans heavily against his knee, eyes closed for a second as he catches his breath. Victor pets him through it.

Then Yuuri opens his eyes and reaches up cradling Victor’s face between his hands and pulling him down as he leans up to kiss him square on the mouth, slow and easy and unhurried. His hands are slippery with slick, and Victor feels arousal twist in his gut all over again.

“Yuuri,” he says very seriously, “if you don’t sit on my face, I think I’ll die.”

Yuuri bursts out laughing, and pulls Victor down for another kiss, this one clumsier because of how wide Yuuri is smiling.

“Absolutely not, I’ll crush you.”

“If I die, I die,” Victor says with a shrug.

Yuuri pinches his cheek. “Don’t _say_ that.”

“_Yuuri_,” Victor whines. “You’re so mean, how could you do this to me? When I love you so much? How can we go on if there’s no pussy eating equality in our relationship?”

“Ohmygod,” Yuuri whispers and hides his face in Victor’s thighs.

“_Yuuri_,” Victor coos, poking him on the cheek.

“Fine,” Yuuri mumbles.

Victor leans down and peppers Yuuri’s face with kisses. Truly, he is the most blessed person on the face of the earth.

**Author's Note:**

> chubby yuuri appreciate week, or, as i like to call it, thighs appreciation propaganda
> 
> [tumblr](https://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/crossroadswrite)


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